Heaven
by tersaseda
Summary: Bella gives Edward his wedding present, but what started off as the perfect afternoon suddenly takes an unexpected turn.  Will she be able to bring them back from the haunting past?  Bella POV.
1. Discoveries

AN: I've been away from the fanfic world for way too long now. Hopefully this dive will not land me on my face. This is a 2-part fic; 2nd chapter forthcoming.

Many, MANY thanks to my dear friend **Eowyn77**...she beta'd this story too many times to count. She keeps me coherent :) But if there are any faults, they are strictly my own.

Stephenie Meyer owns all...but I own the shoe (you'll see!).

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This was heaven, and I was floating on a cloud. An angel's cool fingers softly ran through my hair as his ethereal melodies swirled in rich, baritone cadences around my being.

Okay, so my head was lying in Edward's lap, resting against his outstretched marble-hard legs with my hair fanned out around me. And he wasn't _really_ a cloud—there was no mistaking that. But his majestic face sparkled behind my eyelids. Vampire pillow aside, this was still my heaven. Alone with Edward. Close _enough_ to my happy place.

We had spent the entire afternoon in his bedroom, testing out my wedding present to him: a new sound system. It had taken him all of one second to unwrap the box and another two to read the user's manual. He was like a kid at Christmas as he installed the sleek, futuristic-looking apparatus while rattling off all of the various capabilities and updated features compared to the previous model. Even if he hadn't been talking at that nearly-indecipherable speed he sometimes spoke at, I still wouldn't have understood a word. I had just asked him to show me how to change the radio station and gave up.

With a blur of motion, Edward loaded the CD deck to capacity—it held 100. Once he was satisfied with his playlist, he had proceeded to sprawl out on the floor, pulling me down with him. He was still as giddy as Alice in an haute couture boutique.

At first he had been surprised that I had known this brand and model was the best money could buy. I'd glowered at what was hidden behind his choice of words—he knew how I'd paid for it. That blasted credit card. I only used it because it was _his_ present. Not for me.

My good mood was slightly deflated as I grumbled that Emmett had helped me pick it out, completely ignoring his smug grin and the way he was trying to charm more of a confession out of me.

Emmett, it turned out, was just as obsessive with state-of-the-art technology as Edward was. Good thing, too, because I was clueless when it came to electronics. My twenty dollar boom box suited me fine, thank you very much. But, I knew Edward would like it, and I liked listening as he played his favorite music for me—educating me he called it—so, the decision had been an easy one. So, too, had been the timing of when to give it to him. I specifically decided upon a couple of days before our wedding because it felt less...embarrassingly cliché than traditionally waiting until the day of.

Before the first song had finished, he had enthusiastically thanked me until my heart was racing and a not-so-subtle blush covered me from hairline to toes. Much to my ego's delight, he hadn't been completely unaffected either. From that point on, though, he had contented himself with alternating between playing with my fingers and combing through my hair.

From time to time, he became so absorbed in the music that his eyes would shut peacefully as a serene smile transformed his already glorious face. He would play piano melodies fluidly across my arm. It was magic when he moved, watching his fingers dance gracefully in patterns and rhythms too complex for my understanding.

His tranquility was contagious, and I let my eyelids droop shut, wondering if maybe he'd learned some of Jasper's talent over the years.

I was happy that he loved the stereo; and spending time with him like this was a gift in return. I could handle _this_ kind of gift.

Only two days to go, I reminded myself with an inward shudder, until this whole ridiculous wedding business was over. And then...and then...I would never have to be apart from him. Ever. My happy place unfurled endlessly into my future.

Lost blissfully in my daydreams, I exhaled contentedly and heard Edward inhale in response. He was breathing me in. Savoring as I was savoring. The thought tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"What's so amusing?" he murmured, stroking my hair again.

My heart did a strange dance. Of course he would hear it, even over the music, but he didn't say anything. He was more interested in my verbal response at the moment.

I opened my eyes lazily and stared straight above me. Though I knew what I would see, Edward's perfect face still dazzled me senseless. He was unbelievably beautiful. In a hopeless attempt to steady my pulse, I intensely studied the little flecks of ocher in his honey irises and how just below his left pupil was a speck of bronze that perfectly matched his hair. Unable to help myself, I reached up and brushed back a lock that had fallen over his forehead. This wasn't helping at all.

"Bella..." he whispered again, unable to keep a slight tenor of frustration from surfacing. His piercing eyes searched my expression.

So impatient, even when it was _his_ fault that my brain short-circuited in his presence. My smile grew—I loved that he wanted to know every bit of me as possible.

Bringing our intertwined right hands up to rest on my stomach, I teased, "I was just thinking about how you can't resist me."

His face lifted in amusement, too. "Hmm..." He gazed at me, pensive.

After a few moments, he brought his left hand to my face and caressed his fingertips lightly across my cheekbones, down my neck, across my shoulder, and the length of my arm. Goosebumps shimmered across my skin in the wake of his touch. He then slowly lifted my left hand to his lips—more goosebumps—and kissed the ring on my finger.

His expression was playful, but his eyes smoldered with intensity. "That's very true," he admitted unashamed. "I can resist you as well as the earth can refuse to orbit the sun. However," my breath caught as he flashed my favorite crooked smile, "I like to think that the feeling is mutual." He traced the outline of my lips and chuckled as my body responded mutinously.

Though we had been touching for hours on end, the few inches between us were now more than either of us could bear. Edward had me cradled against his muscular chest in less than a second. Our lips united in ways that by now were so familiar, but just as exhilarating and wonderful as the first time he'd kissed me. At least I had the fainting part under control now.

Just then, my cell phone started ringing. Edward groaned slightly as his body and mouth released mine simultaneously. Our ragged breathing was identical, and the pulsing in my ears was enough to drown out the background song's percussion line.

I pressed closer to him and wove my fingers hungrily through his hair. _I_ wasn't done exploring the physics of our gravitational force. "I'll let it go to voicemail," I whispered against his neck. He effortlessly pulled himself away as my face reflected my thoughts in a pout.

"You're very adorable when you sulk." The velvet in his voice was trying to placate me, but it was useless. My body was throwing a tantrum for more than just that.

I glared at him. "I'm glad you get a kick out of this. You're a sadist." The last line came out much harsher than I had meant it to. Still, he was completely aware that being the responsible one was _my_ job now.

Bringing my wrist up to his face, he skimmed his nose across the pulse point. "No, love. I'm a masochist." Then, putting more distance between us, he rationalized, "But, back to the matter at hand, it could be Charlie. It might be something important." His tone told me I wasn't going to win this battle. To further emphasize his point, he muted the stereo.

Defeated, I crawled across the floor to my purse and yanked the offender out of the side pocket. I punched the "send" button to answer and barked, "Hello?"

Stunned silence. "Umm...hi, Bella. Are you okay?" The familiar voice on the other end was obviously hurt.

Guilt instantly dumped over me like a cold shower. "Hi, Mom. Yeah, I'm fine." I coughed to clear my voice of its roughness. "I was just...really into a movie I was watching. You know, big scene and all." My cheeks burned with the lie. I caught Edward's eye, and he winked deviously. I stuck my tongue out at him. Childish, but such were my defenses at the moment. Reduced to rudimentary playground antics.

Stupid vampire dazzling.

"Oh!" She sounded reassured, her normal happy-go-luck self again. "Sorry to bug you. At least you can always rewind and watch the part over."

I risked another glance at Edward—he could hear every bit of Renée's side of the conversation. He arched an eyebrow invitingly.

I was about to chuck my purse at him when Renée changed the topic. "So, the reason why I called is because Phil and I are on the plane, but we're still waiting to leave the gate. One of the other passengers got sick. We'll be landing a bit later than we thought." It was painfully obvious where I got my bad luck from. "The captain said that it was going to take the paramedics about another fifteen minutes to get here. I just hope they serve some pretzels soon. I'm starving!"

Phil muttered something in the background, but she ignored him. "Anyways, I wanted to let you know so you wouldn't show up at the airport too early, and so Esme and Alice would know when I would be there to start helping." To my utter horror, she sounded as excited about all the wedding crap as my extremely lovable, but at the moment, extremely annoying, future mother- and sister-in-law.

I groaned. "Esme and Alice really don't need another accomplice. At the rate they're going around here, you'd think that Charles and Diana were getting married all over again!"

Edward chuckled. My grip tightened on my purse. _Or maybe a shoe would be better..._

"Oh, just get over it already, Bella," she snapped. It was my turn to be shocked. Renée hardly ever took that tone with me. She continued on before I could respond. "This is what you want for yourself, to spend your life with Edward. Just be happy that you figured it all out this early before you made any mistakes."

By "mistakes," she meant _her_ mistake. Charlie. Almost twenty years had passed since she'd married him fresh out of high school, and she had never hid the fact that she still regretted it. I knew that she had found what she was looking for in Phil, that now she was finally happy. But I couldn't resist feeling protective of Charlie. He still loved her.

I sighed. This day had been so perfect. I didn't want to put a damper on it. "Look, you're right. I am happy with Edward. _Really_ happy. I still can't believe that he wants to marry me. I guess I should stop my whining and snatch him up while he's still willing to say 'I do.'"

Cool arms wrapped around me tightly from behind as his lips brushed my hair. "_Forever_," he whispered fervently.

"Sounds like a good plan." The smile had returned to my mother's voice. Hoping to keep up the good mood, I "ooh"ed and "ah"ed as she started describing the dress she had bought for the wedding, how she was going to do her hair, her makeup, how good Phil looked in his tux, how the lady across the aisle was smart enough to pack her own snack...

Rosalie knocked on the door at some point during the conversation. Apparently Alice needed Edward downstairs. He got up, tossed the stereo remote on the bed, and started towards the door. I envied the way he made simply exiting a room a divine act.

"Hurry back," I mouthed, certain that at even that level, he'd understood me.

He paused at the doorframe, grinning mischievously. He puckered his lips in a kiss, though whether it was more for my benefit or Rosalie's annoyance, I couldn't be sure. Regardless, Edward seemed pleased when Rosalie made an exaggerated gagging sound and then mumbled something about needing to throw up before shoving him down the hall.

"Bella, did you hear me?"

My mind had been busy contemplating what they were all up to down there. Something wedding-related that Dante would have seen fit to include in his ninth circle of Hell.

"Sorry, Mom. What did you say?"

She sighed. "I just wanted to give you the flight number again. You know, just to make sure you all have it, that it didn't get lost somewhere." Her intonation started to sound panicky.

With Alice and Esme as my wedding planners, there was absolutely no way any detail—especially not the mother-of-the-bride's flight information—would lay forgotten by the wayside. But, my mother still didn't realize that not everyone misplaced things as often as she did.

I knew her panic would escalate into full-blown anxiety if I didn't play along, so I said, "Hmm...hang on just a minute. I can't seem to find anything to write with."

My purse was a dead end. My eyes scanned Edward's bedroom and landed on the small bedside table. That looked promising. Opening the drawer, I quickly found what I was looking for.

"Okay. Shoot." The post-it quickly filled with my messy scribbles. I repeated the number back, just to keep up the charade. After a couple more minutes of light chatting, her plane was ready to taxi and we hung up. Edward was still downstairs.

As I opened the drawer again to put the pad and pen away, something caught my eye. Shuffling random papers out of the way, my fingers closed around a small wooden box.

I sat on the bed to examine it more closely. It was so beautiful, so delicate. Unable to help myself, I let my index finger trace the inlaid white flower and intricate vines that patterned the top. I smiled—just like Edward. Old fashioned, but timelessly stunning.

Curious, I gently lifted the lid. To my delighted surprise, a soft tinkling filled the silent room—it was a music box. My vision blurred with tears as I recognized the tune of Debussy's "Claire de Lune." We had just listened to it this afternoon in fact, and Edward's expert pianist fingers had flitted over my arm. It was one of _our_ favorites.

And then my breath caught. Nestled in rich sapphire-hued velvet and tied with white satin ribbon lay a lock of dark hair.

A thousand questions and thoughts instantly flooded my brain. _ Is this...? How in the world...? Why...?_

It was a lock of _my_ hair.


	2. Promises

AN: More flufftastic-ness with a huge helping of Edward-angst. Thank you, **Eowyn77**!

Again, SM owns all!

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"I guess I should explain myself."

I jumped slightly at the closeness of Edward's soft voice. He was sitting stiff on the bed next to me, watching me warily.

"That would certainly help." My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. He looked so...unsettled.

He dropped his gaze and started fidgeting with his hands. Edward nervous? About a box and some hair? I bit my lip to keep from smiling. This I had to hear.

"Did someone just get caught with his hand in the cookie jar?" I was enjoying the taunting. Emmett was definitely becoming a bad influence.

"_You're_ the one who was caught red-handed," he replied, looking pointedly up at me from beneath his dark lashes and nodding once towards the box.

My blush betrayed my guilt.

"So what, then? You stole candy from a baby?" I countered, deflecting.

He rolled his eyes and bowed his head again. "I did commit theft, yes. But no sweets or infants were involved in the crime."

"Well, if that's the case, I highly doubt that whatever you did warrants you being this nervous."

"It's not so much nerves as it is..."

"Yes?" I prompted, scooting towards him, lifting his face until he looked at me again. When he did, the reason for his reluctance betrayed itself immediately. "You're embarrassed about this, aren't you?" I grinned wickedly. "Should I blush for you now?"

"Only if you would prefer replaying that movie scene over getting an explanation," he hinted, raising one eyebrow, daring me.

It was worth a try, and I matched his expression. "Only if you think you can live up to it." This time, my fingertips traced his devastatingly alluring lips and started maneuvering downwards.

His cool grip caught my wandering hand and held it firmly in place on his chest. His bluff revealed, he frowned slightly. "Be good," he murmured in light reprimand.

I snorted in frustration. To use one of his preferred images for me, that was like throwing a heroin addict in a room full of his favorite brand and then restraining him in a chair that sat inches away from an open package.

While mentally I took satisfaction in knowing he could only put me off for two more days, my body was still—again—protesting at the proverbial road block. Besides, he was doing my job again. "Fine," I snapped. "Let me hear your damned excuse."

"Fine," he echoed, much more in control, but slightly ashamed. "I stole it from your bathroom one night."

I waited for him to continue. The pause lengthened. It seemed my usually articulate husband-to-be was still tongue-tied with embarrassment. "You know, if you want me to behave myself, you should really work on your elaboration skills. And that is a threat that _I_ won't be afraid to make good on."

He continued immediately. "It was a while ago, a couple of months before you knew that I was watching you sleep. On this particular night, you were very restless, and you had kicked all your covers off. As adorable as you were laying there completely tangled in your sheets, you started to shiver from the exposure, so I walked over to tuck your blanket tighter. Even then I hated not seeing every inch of you, but my...disappointment was secondary to your health. If you had caught cold, what would I have done? I couldn't suddenly appear at your home during the day to nurse you back to health—that would have risked revealing too much.

"I was overindulgent that night and stayed closer to you to look at your face. You were so beautiful. It was then that I noticed your hair was a couple of inches shorter than it had been at school." He wistfully reached over and began curling a wayward strand around his finger. "Naturally, curiosity always gets the better of me when it comes to you," he smiled at me, "and I went to your bathroom to investigate. There in the trash was the answer to the mystery: you had given yourself a haircut that evening and deposited the clippings in the bin. However, you had missed a small section on the countertop..."

He released the strand he was playing with and delicately lifted the lock of hair from the music box. "The opportunity was too great to pass up, and so...here we are. It still faintly smells like your shampoo, though now..." He dropped the beribboned section back into its cushioned container, and before I could breathe again, his arms were embracing me tightly as he buried his face in my hair. He inhaled deeply a couple of times and pulled back, and I became lost in a sea of bright, liquid topaz. "Now, I don't have to settle for a lesser substitute."

My breath was hitching at irregular intervals as his sweet scent swirled around me. "You know that you could have just asked me. Even then, I couldn't say no to you."

"Silly Bella." Edward shook his head slowly from side to side and kissed my forehead. "You were definitely off-limits at the time. Well," he amended, "_mostly_ off-limits. Hands-off, at the least."

"But I'm not anymore," I whispered, placing his cool palm against my heated cheek. "In all the time that has passed, you still could have asked, especially since you seem to like the smell. I'd give it to you in a heartbeat."

"I know, love." He smiled sadly as some of the brightness left his gaze. "Despite the fact that your scent sings for me—that _every_ part of you sings for me, I've kept this as a reminder of how little I deserve you."

"Gah!" I huffed dramatically. We'd had this discussion many, many times before. Old arguments defensively rose in my throat, but he placed a finger over my lips to silence me.

My eyes must have been throwing questions at him because his brow furrowed as if he were debating with himself to continue. The need to explain won, though I could tell by the hard line of his mouth that the decision was costing him. Suddenly I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear his explanation any more.

"As I already alluded to, until the day in the meadow, I dared not touch you again after the morning I stopped Tyler's van from crushing you. Partly, it was because I didn't know if I could control myself around you yet, but mostly it was because to do so seemed a desecration of your innocence. Taking a bit of your hair—something that was already discarded—therefore put you in neither one of those dangers and afforded me a secret satisfaction. I had a part of you that I could touch and not hurt or break. I finally felt the ache of wanting to be close to you lessening in intensity, even if only very slightly. I was just beginning to understand how strong your hold was on me."

A glint flashed in his eyes. "Then..." he took a ragged breath, "the day I left you in the forest, the day I betrayed every ounce of your trust in me..."

His marble frame shuddered slightly. I could not have spoken a word even if my life depended on it, and I laid there in his arms in stunned silence. This conversation had taken a dangerous turn. As a rule, we typically didn't talk about that day—or the six months that followed.

Instinctively, my own mind jerked back to that dark time. Though I no longer felt the gaping hole in my chest, I still had muscle memory, almost a reflex, that made part of me sting with the resurrected past. The urge to hold myself together had also long vanished, but my fingers twitched briefly. Edward was too occupied with his own memories to notice.

"I made you that asinine promise to never come back, and to make your life so that you would forget me eventually. Well, you know now that I was selfish enough to leave various mementos behind under your floorboards like a coward. But, I made sure to never make the same promises to myself. _I_ made sure to remember _you_," he said, now staring intently again at the music box and my hair.

He laughed hard once, bitterly. "I welcomed the pain; it was my acutely just penance. I thought that I would never see you again alive, that I was strong enough to satisfy my need for you with pale memories and dead tokens of remembrance. All those months, every day, I would hold that small part of you in my hands and remember what it meant to really _live_. Holding your heartbreakingly angelic face inches from mine, seeing you anticipate my kiss, rejoicing when you whispered that you loved me...and I turned my back on it all."

I followed Edward's line of sight to the box that was clutched tightly in my grasp. Oddly enough, it gave me some relief to know that he had clung to proof that he hadn't imagined me, either; like I had done with his voice. And we both had been willing to accept the stinging consequences of that need for validation.

"The night after I brought you back from Italy," he continued," I knew I had no right to be so close to you again. You were in my arms, as if nothing had happened in the last six months to expose me as the basest of all creatures. Miracle of miracles, unfathomably you still wanted _me_.

"And now, even though it appears you've forgiven me of the damning mistakes I've made up until this point, arrogantly committed in efforts to save you, I find myself staring at approaching errors that will result from my not being able to resist you or the way I feel about you. I am still just as pathetically weak."

Cool hands began stroking my hair again. I felt as frozen as they were icy.

"So you see now, love, how much I don't deserve you. Not then, and even less so now."

His fingertips moved to my chin, persuading me to meet his stare. My head tilted back, but I couldn't lift my eyes.

I just didn't understand. My angel still couldn't comprehend. Not one ounce of resentment tainted the way I loved him, the way I desperately craved him and all that he was until I felt I would implode from the sheer force of it. My heart ached to reassure him; his pain was unbearable. How could I ever love him enough to make him whole again? Why did loving me have to hurt him so much when I was so happy?

"Ahh," he moaned, taking the box from my hands and pulling me closer to him. "I am hurting you all over again. How can you even love me?"

At this, my mind became aware of the strangled way he spoke. Frantically, I unfroze and my eyes jumped to his. The raw pain I saw there nearly destroyed me. Hadn't I promised myself over and over to never be the cause of this look again?

"Edward..." My voice broke with the weight of his sadness. Tears welled behind my lashes as I leveled my face with his to hold it gently with both hands. My mouth brushed his thick hair, his smooth forehead, his temples.

"Bella," he whispered, wiping away the tears that ran down my cheeks. "I—"

"Shh..." I pulled away slightly to make sure he was looking directly at me, that there was no way he could doubt what I was about to say. "I am not crying because you have hurt _me_, Edward. I'm sad because you still can't seem to grasp how much I love you. Being with you is the greatest happiness I could ever imagine. Times one hundred." My face was hot with the intensity of my feelings. "The greatest gift I can give you is the knowledge that I love you, but apparently, I must be doing something wrong. I want you to hope and trust in yourself as much as _I_ hope and trust in you. So, please, just for this moment, forget the past, forget the future...forget everything. Just listen—just _feel_ what I am telling you. Just let me love you, Edward. _Please._" There it was, my ultimate weapon against him; but I had no other choice. He hadn't listened to me any other way.

He stared at me for a long moment. Finally, with a shiver, he sighed heavily and closed his anguished eyes.

I began soothing him again, but started with his hands. I let my fingertips follow the lines on his palms and the length of his elegant fingers before I pressed a kiss on each one.

Rarely did I ever try to express myself so uninhibitedly to him, at least not to specifically identify every way I needed him. Hoping that my feelings would come out right, I spoke softly, "Do you know how much I love your touch? How you make me feel so special when you are gentle with me?"

I trailed kisses up his arm. "Do you know how safe I feel when you hold me? Whatever happens, I know that you'll always protect me."

My lips ran butterfly kisses along the line of his jaw. Then they fluttered softly against his ear and down his neck. I _had_ promised to be good, so I brought them back up to flit around the edges of his mouth.

Edward was still motionless against me, but his mouth parted faintly at my nearness. "And do you know," I smiled slightly as I heard the huskiness in my own voice, "that with one kiss, you can make me forget where I am, what my name is? I forget everything but _you_. I know you don't need to be able to read my mind anymore then."

He shivered and sighed again, this time with pleasure. It was working. The pain was retreating, surrendering its crushing hold on my Edward, bit by bit. He _was_ feeling my love, and my heart burst into a triumphant sprint. I would do this all day if I had to—to fill him, kiss by kiss, with my own joy. Joy that only existed because of _him_.

My lips finally brushed against his. The emotion was so thick in my throat now that I could barely manage a whisper. "But, most importantly, when you tell me that you love me, it's like you gave me the sun. I feel its warmth—your warmth—radiating to the deepest part of me, into every thought and feeling I have. You are the reason I was created. You are the reason for _everything_."

I turned my head to move to his jaw again but he dipped with me and pressed his lips tenderly against mine. He traced the contours of my face, so adoringly, so sweetly that my breath caught.

At that, he opened his eyes widely, unguarded. He was looking at me like he had never seen me before, like I was _his_ sunlight.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you."

He was my dazzling Edward again.

After a few moments, he whispered, "Thank you for today. For the stereo, for listening to me, for...cheering me up." Kissing me softly on the cheek, he touched his forehead to mine. "I swear, Bella, that every second of my existence will be spent trying to be worthy of you and your love."

Cautiously, I studied his expression for a moment. Would the defeated sadness return? But I could only find peace and love across the smooth planes.

When I was confident that he had only spoken out of happiness, I offered, "Well, we do have forever, you know."

He smiled my favorite smile. "And it will never be long enough to show you how much I helplessly, desperately adore you."

"Ditto. I hope you never stop trying."

Scorching ocher melted me to my core.

"Ditto," he murmured, rapturously kissing me as if he'd chosen this very moment to start keeping his promise.

Yes, this was definitely heaven.


End file.
